


Something More Insidious

by orphan_account



Category: Malcolm in the Middle
Genre: Child Abuse, F/M, High School, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-18 14:57:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18701890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A more insidious and realistic look at Malcolm in the Middle.With Francis not in military school, Reese not as dumb as he acts, Malcolm having a reason for his narcissism and Dewey determined to get a dog no matter what, this is a darker look at the Wilkerson's.Warning: While I love Lois and Hal I made them a bit out of character and much meaner in this story.





	Something More Insidious

Francis rested his head against his locker and groaned into it. Today was not a good day, not by a longshot. The school day hadn’t even begun yet already he was feeling like shit. He was tired as hell (staying up till 4 scrubbing floors did that to a person) and sore everywhere (from the same thing). What the hell was wrong with his mother anyway? The first class of today was history and he’d have to deal with Spangler, the most frustrating and difficult person on the planet, after Lois of course. Luckily he wasn’t alone in his misery, he had Eric to keep him company. It would’ve been nice to have Ritchie and Circus in the class as well but both had been held back a year, in Circus’ case, two. Believe it or not, Francis was actually in a challenge history class, not by choice of course, his mother had seen to getting him. His grades from the former year were a stubborn C but while Francis may be lazy, reckless and immature he was actually smart when he wanted to be. If he wasn’t smart how else could he have figured out how to maneuver a cow onto the roof of the 900s building and then parachute it into the school’s garden? He still had detention for that. 

Sighing as he tried to work up the effort to stand up straight and make his way to Spangler’s class. Lois had threatened dark things if he was caught skipping class again. But then he saw a paint can sitting innocently by a drying wall and well… how could he resist? Grinning to himself, already cooking up a scheme, he slipped effortlessly into a nearby janitors closet as he waited for the bell to ring. After it did, Francis checked both ways to make sure the coast was clear before wandering over to the bucket, dipping his paintbrush in and beginning a piece of art on the lockers. 

 

Walking to Stevie Kenarban’s, Malcolm wondered which was worse, being at home or spending time with a kid with a disability. What kind of sick mind game was his mother playing, Stevie must be some sort of punishment. Then again, it didn’t seem much of his mother’s style. While Lois loved to manipulate and torture the Wilkerson siblings psychologically, she mainly preferred the belt or their father’s fists. Malcolm honestly believed if it weren’t for his mother’s manipulating of his father then he wouldn’t resort to physical punishment. Still, despite the belief Malcolm hated his father, just less then the demon he called his mother. As he reached the house he believed was resided in by the Kenarbin’s, he thought back to the odd sequence of events that had happened during school. Apart from the embarrassing trick played on him by Dave Spath involving red paint, he’d also been called down to analyze a picture. Honestly, it was sad what educator’s did to entertain themselves nowadays, have a kid list off what was wrong with a photo. 

When Kittie and Abe Kenarban come to the front door, smiling in a strained, creepy fashion he has to admit he’s a bit unnerved. Stevie is boring at first as well, that joke sucked and what was wrong with his breathing? But then he was introduced to the kid’s comic books and Malcolm’s opinion changed fast. Honestly though, no television, how did the kid get by with comics and puzzles? 

 

Of course he’d gotten caught, he always got caught. And it wasn’t just by accident, there was something deep inside him, something messed up that felt pleasure in getting in trouble. It was messed up. Especially what trouble meant in his household. Maybe all the years of abuse had driven him crazy, that was another thing to hold against his parents, he should do more research into it. Probably get Malcolm to do it, he was good at things like that. 

Waiting in the principal’s office, his feet on the man’s desk, Francis messed with a string on his sweater. Otto was looking at him disapprovingly but hadn’t said anything yet. Despite always being the face he was greeted with after pulling a stunt, the blonde genuinely liked the man; Otto was nice, laid back and a good, hardworking guy. He was a bit hard to understand sometimes as he was German but he knew English well enough. 

Looking up at the popcorn ceiling, Francis was tempted to throw something at and into it, however he doubted the principal would like that very much, tolerant as he was. The sixteen year old wasn’t stupid enough to do something like that in front of a supervisor. 

Losing interest in the string he’d been picking at, Francis began to study his fingernails, he felt tempted to bite them. However that was one habit Lois had succeeded in breaking him of and he was not going to go through that again. 

The relative silence in the room was broken by the sound of a furious,”Francis!”.

Otto sighed and Francis took his feet off the man’s desk as the door to the office burst open. The blonde wasn’t surprised at the purple color of his mother’s face or the tone of voice she adapted as she began screaming words at him. It wasn’t as bad as what he’d get at home though, she had to restrain herself here. Even after lengthy experience with Lois and her yelling, Otto looked appalled every time this happened, which was at least once a week.

“What the hell did he do this time?” the forty-one year old snapped as she finished her verbal assault on her son. 

“He painted some very vulgar words and images along the lockers in the 700s building.” Otto said, wearniness lacing his tone. 

Lois let her head fall back, groaning something to herself before snapping her skull back and asking,”Do we have to pay for anything?”

“No ma’am, luckily the janitor believes he can wipe it away. Francis is going to have to serve quite a bit of detention though, I’m afraid that if another offense such as this occurs we’ll have to suspend him.”

“What’s his punishment?” Lois asked, slightly more calm now.

“Two months of after school detention and lunch duty.”

“Fine.”

“Is he available for it today?” the German asked.

“Hell no. He’s coming home and getting a piece of my mind before he goes off to your sorry excuse of punishment.”

Otto stretched his lips into a grim expression but didn’t say anything else,”Well you’re both free to go, Francis is being suspended for the day.”

“Come on.” Lois snapped, pulling her son by the shoulder as she marched across the room.

Francis winced as she was clutching an old bruise. He knew better to say anything yet had a hard time controlling a rude remark. The blonde chose to be silent.

 

Leaning against the backdoor, Francis inhaled the smoke from a cigarette intertwined between two fingers, he felt a rush of relief. He had no idea where Reese was, Dewey would be home in ten minutes and Malcolm was at some kid’s house, he had nobody to tell on him for smoking. Then again, he doubted his parents could be much more fury filled then they already were. While they’d avoided the belt, fresh bruises were everywhere, he’d have to make up an excuse to get out of gym class. Ditching was off the table, he had to lie low for a bit since he sure as hell didn’t want to be suspended. Last time that had happened he’d passed out from almost choking to death as his father held him high in the air, his feet flailing and so much pressure on his neck. He still had nightmares. 

Sighing to himself as he finished off the cigarette, he fed another addiction by burrowing it into his forearm before flicking the butt away.

 

It was Saturday and in Reese’s mind Lois was a ticking time bomb. The next person to do something wrong was going to get one hell of a punishment. After Francis had gotten in trouble on Thursday she’d been livid, the brown haired boy was surprised she hadn’t lashed out yet. Well other than at Francis, that was just an educated guess though. Somebody makes mom mad and they sure as hell are punished. It was pretty much an indisputable fact.

It was driving Reese crazy to say the least, he was desperate to beat up Dewey or finally sick Mrs. Robertson’s guard dog on that stupid kid next door. The kid had ruined Reese’s chance with Elle Spindler. There was a knock on the door but he ignored it, let mom get it.  
“Reese, Malcolm get the door!” she yelled from the laundry room. He acted as though he hadn’t heard her and quickly busied himself. 

The doorbell was rung a second time,”Hal do you want to get the door?” she said moodily as she loaded laundry into a white basket,”Dewey-” another ring,”Oh for god’s sake… I’m coming!”

She slammed the laundry pile on a shelf and opened the door aggressively, topless and all,”Yes can I help you?” she asked exasperatedly.

A curly haired woman stood on the other side of the door, she gawked at the Wilkerson matriarch,”Oh my.. Oh um hi hello. I’m Caroline Miller from Malcolm’s school?”

Sighing Reese tuned them out, thank god it wasn’t about him. Mom would blow a gasket if she found out what happened in Science yesterday…

He opened his window and crawled out, he knew Francis was out here, smoking again. He’d agreed not to tell but only because occasionally his brother allowed him a cigarette as well. Vaguely he heard a yell coming from the front door about boobs but thought nothing of it. That told you a few things about the godforsaken family he lived with.

“Hey Francis.” he said wandering over to the blonde, he had one foot against the wall of the house and had his eyes closed but with his face tilted upward as he expertly exhaled a cloud of gray. It truly was an art.

“Can I have one?” he asked, extending an arm.

“Fuck off Reese.” Francis said, low and with a dangerous tone.

The younger boy’s face contracted into a scowl and he stomped off,”Fine, you’ll regret it when I tell mom about your little habit.”

“You won’t.” Francis responded, not even turning his head back at the thirteen year old.

 

The following Monday, as everybody frantically consumed as much eggs and bacon as they could in a five minute period, Lois demanded “stop”. It was a command that made even Francis freeze in his spot. Dewey who was already half out of his seat slowly sat down, eyeing his mother warily. 

“There’s something we need to talk about.” she said slowly,”It’s about Malcolm.”

The middle child in question eyes popped open and on reflex he said,”I didn’t do it.”

Reese said also by reflex,”Yes he did, I saw him.” 

Their father eyed his wife with a frown.

“A teacher from school ran by and she ran some tests with Malcolm…” she inhaled deeply,”He has an IQ of 165.”

Reese choked on a piece of bacon, everybody was too shocked to help.

“He’s going to special class.” she said stiffly, she seemed to be as full of disbelief as everybody else in the family. Somebody in her family who she’d been calling a screw up and idiot since the day he was born had just proven himself to be a genius. 

“Malcolm’s special?” Hal asked, tasting the word as if it were foreign.

“He’s a genius.” Lois said, a hint of pride in her voice; something that made Reese (who had spit his bacon out before beginning to chew it again) choke once more.

“They have a special program for gifted children.” Lois continued,”You start today.”

“He’s joining the krelboyne class?” Reese asked, suppressing a laugh.

“Mom, no!” Malcolm said, beginning to plead.

One glare sent his way was enough to shut the twelve year old up. 

“You sure he’s your kid?” Francis asked,”Sure he didn’t get switched out at the hospital? Because how the hell would a genius come from the two of you?”

The following silence was deadly,”Francis go to your room. I’ll deal with you in a moment.”

Her oldest son snarled,”Why the fuck should I? I’m sixteen, you can’t boss me around.”

“First of all, you are fifteen, don’t go lying again. Second of all I can boss you around for as long as I live, we could’ve thrown you out on the streets, aborted you, starved you but no! We kept your ungrateful ass and what have you given us in return, nothing but fucking trouble!” Both boy and woman were standing now, both in one another’s faces, both stubborn as mules and glaring into one another’s eyes. Reese, Malcolm and Dewey had already wisely made their way out the front door. 

“And your some saint!” Francis ranted,”Mother’s aren’t supposed to rub the fact that they were decent human beings and kept their child alive and say it as though it’s some heroic thing to do. You’re a fucking control freak, sociopath and abusive mother!”

Lois slapped him  
.  
Hal marched over shortly after,”You do not get to talk to your mother that way. You are a conniving, useless piece of shit and are lucky we let you live under this roof.”

Francis’s face was turning purple with rage and he opened his mouth to rant but it was met by a fist. The boy was knocked off his feet and his head slammed against the tile of the kitchen.

“Go to school.” Lois said flatly,”If I find out you’ve caused a lick of trouble-”

“I get it.” Francis interrupted, standing up and wiping blood from his mouth,”I’m going.”

 

Malcolm felt awful as he walked to krelboyne class. His teacher had to make a big deal about his intelligence, why couldn’t he just stay with the normal kids? Everybody in the krelboyne class was as uncool as they came. 

After a short introduction by the teacher, Caroline something (the one who came to his house and saw his mom’s boobs), Malcolm took a seat next to Stevie. He had seemed nice enough when he went over to the kid’s house. A huge crowd of kids were standing around him, if it weren’t for the fact that they were, well… krelboynes, he’d be intimidated. 

“Stop staring at me!” Malcolm said crossly at their judgemental faces.

Slowly the crowd dispersed and he was left with Stevie and his smug expression,”Why are they doing that?” he asked irritably.

“You’re new.” Stevie said as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

“Oh great.” the brown haired boy said sarcastically,”So I’m the freak of the freak show?”

“Just… chill out.” Stevie said in response.

“Don’t tell me to chill out! You chill out, nobody can live like this!” 

“I’m okay.” Stevie said defensively.

“Oh sure, you’re okay because this doesn’t make any difference to you! You’ve always been a freak, I was normal!”

At the hurt expression on the disabled boy’s face, Malcolm felt a small flare of guilt,”You’re going to take that the wrong way, aren’t you?”

“You… suck!” 

The recently proclaimed genius sighed and stared miserably at his text book. Why did everything always go wrong for him? 

 

Malcolm sat alone at lunch. He frowned down at his sorry excuse of a lunch, a molding apple and half of a pbj. Sighing, he looked over at Stevie who was in a similar situation. Biting his lip as the other boy turned his head from Malcolm’s gaze, the young genius considered his options before walking over to the black haired boy.

“Stevie?”

“What?” the said boy asked, meeting Malcolm’s eyes coldly. 

“Look… I-” he was interrupted by something being thrown at his head.

Livid at everything that was going on in his world, Malcolm slammed down his lunch and turned to a laughing group of jocks. He knew who it was being led by.

“Hey Spath, why don’t you stop being such a buttwipe!”

He was shocked into silence by his own words and felt familiar fear creep up into him, suddenly it wasn’t Spath who was advancing on him but his mother and in her hands was his father’s belt. Gulping, Malcolm tried to control his breaths and remind himself of his surroundings. The bully wasn’t helping though,”What did you call me?”

Swallowing down his fear, Malcolm screamed,”You fucking heard me! I don’t care anymore!”

As the boy advanced, Stevie rolled his chair forward,”Hey-” he said hesitantly.

Malcolm held a hand out, not taking his eyes from Spath’s smirking face,”Go away Stevie.”

“It’s good you two are friends.” the curly haired boy said menacingly,”You can use his wheelchair.”

And in one solid motion, the bully raised his fist and began the downward descent. Without thinking, Malcolm moved out of the way of the fist, leaving Stevie undefended. As Spath’s fist hit the ashmatic boy the crowd gasped.

“You hit a cripple!” Somebody yelled.

Thinking quick on his feet, Stevie tipped his wheelchair and there was an audible gasp among the crowd. As Stevie moaned about his injury, he smiled at Malcolm and the boy took it as a sign of a continuing friendship. The sound of Spath being beat to a pulp in the background weren’t too bad either.

Walking home that day, Malcolm felt surprisingly content. Even though he had to hold Dewey’s hand as they walked home, the friendship that had begun between himself and Stevie was a reason for happiness. 

“I want a dog.” Dewey said as they walked home.

“Don’t bring it up with mom and dad.” Malcolm said in response, leaving his brother alone at the front door as he made for their shared room.


End file.
